Behind Closed Doors
by ragged-sun
Summary: A glimpse into the unwritten chapter of Susan Kay's novel "Phantom" from Christines point of view. We must all jump eventually, no matter are fears. To see her again, it was a dying mans final wish. T for now, but will change as final chapter is posted.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Oh dear me, where do I even begin! I finished Susan Kay's novel "Phantom" A matter of days ago, and although I admit this is not my forte, I had such a powerful urge to write that I couldn't help myself! I'm hoping to try and fill in the blanks of Raoul's point of view. This is, according to my own decipher of the text, a possible description of what happened when Christine went to see the phantom for the final time. It is written in Christine's point of view and remember these are purely my own assumptions. If you enjoy the story, let me know! If you despise it with the very core of your being…well, thanks for reading anyways! **

**I'm sure there are other fictions like this on the site covering the same topic, although I haven't read any yet. I'm going to try my best to fill in the blanks. Now, I'm warning you all before hand. I have NEVER written anything…smutty, I guess you could say, and quite honestly I know I am the last person qualified or competent in doing so. I'm still not sure how I will tackle that part of the story, but I promise you I will do my best. **

**These first few paragraphs of dialogue are taken from the novel (with a few things added for enhancement) They belong solely to Susan Kay. **

**I think it goes without saying that this is a fairly sloppy E/C romance fan fiction. It may not be realistic or even plausible, but hey, is fan fiction ever? **

"It is time for us to go back." I spoke clearly and with a confidence I hadn't believed possible, at least not from my mouth.

Raoul stood aghast for a moment, his brow furrowed in obvious disbelief and bewildered doubt. Of course, I hadn't expected him to agree contentedly, yet I had still clung to the hope that he wouldn't possibly make a blatant lie of his own words. Not my Raoul, a man so blessed with human kindness.

I had barely assessed his cold disposition when I felt his hands close savagely around my shoulders, shaking me with a strength I hadn't believed possible. His eyes were filled with venomous hurt and protective anger; emotions I would never in my life have used to describe this tolerant man.

"If you think for one moment that I will take you back there you must be out of your mind!"

"But you promised," I stated firmly, shocked by his horrible vice grip, "You promised him Raoul!"

"Of course I promised…I'd have promised to cut off my own leg to get you out of his hands. The man is insane, Christine, utterly deranged…you must be quite mad yourself to think I ever intended to keep that promise!"

"If you won't take me," I said indignantly, unsteady in my own confidence, "I shall go by myself."

That seemed to push him over the edge, all traces of his calm disposition disappearing. I felt the invitation pulled swiftly from my hand and torn quickly into a dozen falling scraps of paper.

"If you go back to him you won't be needing to take this with you!" He shouted furiously, tiny flecks of saliva flying distastefully from his mouth. "If you go back to him there won't be any wedding…do you understand what I'm saying Christine?"

I nodded slowly, finally understanding this belligerent outburst. I knew exactly what he meant, although I couldn't help but doubt his assumptions. Erik had let me go once, and although I knew the anguish it would cause him, he would let me go again. He wanted my safety, and it stung my heart to know he would always place my own happiness over his own. The heart that often beat with such tender kindness was now failing him. When illness finally took his life, an inevitable occurrence due to take place at any time, I knew he wouldn't leave me alone. Shelter from the world, a steadfast love. Raoul could give me this, Erik knew it.

I watched my fiancé stalk away angrily, slamming the door with bitter animosity. I was alone again, left to stare silently at the brusquely torn shreds of paper at my feet.

You promised me. You promised him, a dying mans last wish. In his insane grief it was all he asked, a strange request indeed, but his sacrifice seemed to have earned him that. My eyes, glazed over so often during these past few wakes, seemed to open with a sudden unseen truth. Raoul had never intended to let me go back, and through all of his attempts to distance me from my past, to help me forget, he seemed to have overlooked what I needed the most.

Raoul, although unyieldingly gentle and affectionate, had always assumed the worst in Erik. Like a puzzle, he coldly tried to jam pieces where they didn't fit. Eventually, through sheer blind ambition, he managed to get the pieces to stick together in an obviously askew pattern, but in doing so was never able to see the beauty of the larger picture. I wasn't delusional (although I was becoming increasingly insecure with my own sanity) I was quite aware of the potential for evil brooding dangerously behind that mask, a bubbling hatred ready to overfill upon provocation.

Yet I had experienced the kindness, the almost inhuman way he cared for every living being. I had been enticed by his love, a love so much stronger than anything I had ever felt. Yet here I was, sitting quiet and demure at Raoul's side, due to be married in less than a day. I had promised Erik. I had promised.

Of course Raoul's fears weren't entirely ludicrous; he had every right, every bit of evidence to justify his indignant anxiety. I loved my fiancé dearly, and had been undeniably infatuated with him since the moment we met. Quite oblivious to the world's twisted horrors, as most children are, we shared a tender bond born from childhood innocence and strengthened through his unyielding kindness and my fear of the unknown, of the strange. We had laughed together, youthful euphoria filling our days. I could always trust him to understand, our childish whispers and exuberance, never afraid to share even the silliest of ideas with one another. He was my safety from a world I didn't understand, a place I feared so greatly, yet yearned for with loving adoration. Running in fear from what I didn't understand, what I failed to look past. Indeed I had eventually escaped…in a way.

My body sat cold and quiet in my perfectly conventional flat, yet my mind was still there. With Erik, his voice spinning in beautiful ecstasy around my head. The face that frightened me so much… I was torn by so many conflicting emotions. Did I run in disgust from the physical form I feared so greatly? Or cling passionately to a love I knew I could never abandon? These were the questions my ignorant childish mind had tried to answer for months during my time at the Parisian Opera, never failing to come up with the wrong answer. Strange how we can change in a matter of moments, a single kiss… that changes everything. I was still me, and although I couldn't deny my insecurities, that haunted face had held no horror for me now. It hadn't for three weeks.

My distress had mounted continuously across the span of that month; weeks that I know should have been spent in bliss, finally getting the picture perfect ending I had once dreamed of. Raoul had noticed, how could he not! When I finally was sure, finally knew beyond a doubt it was time to go back I had been met with this. An outburst that I hadn't believed possible from my gentle fiancé.

I grabbed my coat quite calmly, now sure of what I had to do. How had I ever doubted it? Raoul had forbid it, I didn't expect him to understand or approve (although I couldn't deny my childish longing that yearned for his approval). Perhaps I was just biased, I'm still not entirely sure when my trip back to the past had stopped being about presenting an invitation and became completely about seeing him. Come to think of it, it never was.

I would go on my own accord. I would leave the fear behind, push the uneasiness away and tread confidently into the home I had become so accustomed to. Slowly, easily, I traversed with complete trust into his sanctum of music, a hell bellow the opera floor.

**A/N: Just an insight into Christine's inner thoughts. A prequel, if you will, to the action ;) Wish me luck on the next chapter…I'm going to need it! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Ok, second instalment. I know they aren't extremely long, but I'm trying my best to write quickly (I don't exactly have the best track record for finishing things I started) But I'm already half way done the next chapter, which will be the last. So leave a review, tell me what you think. It's been hard for me to write the next chapter. But hey, challenges are what writing is about, right? ;) **

It seems so completely preposterous that people can be changed completely, down to the very core of their being, yet the buildings and places around them stay constant and immutable. The stage on which I had made my debut, the mirror where I first heard the angel of music's voice echo powerfully through my mind, they all remained exactly where I left them. Each monument stood impervious, completely untouched by the power of human revelation. I knew the path to his cavern so well I'm sure I could have walked it blindfolded.

Expecting to be met with the same consistency I had experienced from the rest of the opera house I stood in stunned bewildered shock at the state of Erik's home. I'm not sure what I had expected to find. Perhaps I hoped to see him sitting there, absorbed by his organ, playing with that interminable beauty. The voice I could never deny, those graceful hands full of unimaginable dexterity. No, this was not the scene that awaited me. I knew him well enough to know he would never have expected Raoul and I to fulfill our promise. He had grown to always anticipate less than he deserved. A stab of truth filled my eyes with tears. My actions, more than anything, had taught him not to trust in hope.

The room was destroyed. Furniture lay on its side, scores of music savagely tossed and torn, left to lay strewn across the floor. I hadn't believed I could handle any more surprises, any more shock. I felt weary, emotionally and physically exhausted from the lack of sleep and joy present in my life. I really had no idea what I still had to face.

"Christine Daae…you came." I jumped at the sound of the familiar voice, Nadir, as Erik had called him. "And without your fiancé I see."

"Erik… Please…where is he?" I asked, my voice quavering. I feared for the first time that I might be to late. I gestured weakly to my dismantled surroundings. "Did he…did he do all of this?" I imagined his chest heaving violently at the exertion needed to decimate a room.

Nadir rose suddenly from the leather couch, I realised almost instantly that he was as emotionally haggard as I. The deep set lines in his forehead were much more evident, his eyes solemn and red with stress and grief. He had been crying. Oh god…It was already over.

"He did not think you would come, Mademoiselle. Raoul would not let you return, he was sure of this…I asked him to spare the organ, his music. He refuses to listen to me…he says he does not want any trace of himself left on this earth."

"Please…Take me to him." I knew my purpose; I was here for a reason. "I have to see him, I beg you, Where is he?"

"You of all people do not need to beg to see him," The Persian spoke softly, staring sadly at the ground. He shook his head, "you are the only person he would wish to see." He gestured silently to my room, the room that I had hid away in, lied huddled on the bed and experienced the wonder of his music so many times.

"The only room he could not destroy. I am uncertain if he's in a state to talk, I carried him to the bed after the last attack. I am sure you know as well as I that his end is near."

I felt our eyes meet, and I stared sadly at Nadir. This man, sad and old, ravaged by age and obvious unspoken terrors. I knew, somehow, he was one of the few people who had ever seen Erik the same way as I. Sharing kindness, friendship, and a strange unspoken bond of empathy and trust. I let my mind wander, wondering how these two exceedingly different human souls had crossed paths. Now I would never know. My chest heaved with remorse as I once again considered that inevitable truth, Erik would probably not last more than a few hours if Nadir's diagnosis was indeed valid.

A crunch of glass resonated beneath my heel as I started towards the closed door. A picture frame. I gazed in silence at the photograph I had once longed to stare at. _Our similar faces betray our differences _I thought sadly, guessing perfectly well who had been the one to start Erik's spiral into ultimate darkness. _You deserted him. But I will not. I have not been fair to him…but I have changed for the better. _As a rule, I was not a vengeful human being, yet I threw the picture to the floor with sudden contempt. A shattered pane of glass covered Madeleine's face, obscuring the beauty I had once been so fascinated with. 

I entered the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. Every minute detail was exactly as I recalled. He lay spread on the bed, so peaceful to the naked eye. His chest rose smoothly, betraying the erratic heart underneath. Proceeding slowly towards the quiet form, I felt the inevitable tears blur my vision as a frantic flurry of indescribable emotions pounded through my veins. A deep longing, a need to reach out and comfort him, assure him that I was here. Always for him. A fear that had been so deeply rooted into my soul now was a childish thought of the past. Being his wife was enough, but I wanted to give him more.

"Erik…." My voice alone was enough to draw his eyes open. He seemed so struck with surprise, with a joy and love that I couldn't begin to imagine. I couldn't help but smile, no matter the situation.

"My dear, you came." His voice, although strained with illness, was as intoxicatingly lovely as ever. "I admit, I did not expect you would."

Erik, so polite even on his death bed, a gentleman to the end. Had I expected any less? I felt my hands slowly remove the mask, but no fear awaited me behind that white shield. His features drew me in, and I felt my heart stir as tears fell steadily down his face. I wanted to kiss every inch of him, wipe away the sadness he never deserved to suffer through. I would heal him; every cruel distressing experience he had suffered I would alleviate. All I had to do was be here for him.

"Nadir…" I spoke softly, afraid to leave his gaze for a moment. "Will you be our witness?"

"If you are unsure…I will not force you. You know I would not." Erik had slowly propped himself into a semi sitting position, betraying the weakness that I had feared would limit him to the bed. "Christine, I will not pretend that I don't want this. But decisions should not be made rashly. I, perhaps, am not the best example…you know your happiness is what I fear for." He frowned, shaking his head slightly, "A face like mine does not deserve love."

Oh how I wished to comfort him with every possible reassurance I could conjure. Such an array of beauty and sensitivity, yet he seemed so reluctant to truly accept my feelings. He had hoped, prayed desperately to a god he had tried to forget, yet years of poignant suffering had hardened him to true belief. No words could convey to him how truly wrong he was, I simply shook my head with furious disbelief.

Quietly, Nadir walked with gentle ease to the large armoire that had housed my numerous gowns. The infamous wedding dressed, I saw with a pang of guilt and self loathing, still hung hopefully among the array of untouched dresses.

"I knew the moment I saw you, mademoiselle Daae, you were the one this ring belonged to." He spoke softly, lightly stroking the velvet box.

The band was plain, simple and undeniably elegant in a perfectly understated way. Erik reached out slowly, with a deliberate sort of perseverance, to place the golden ring slowly on my finger. Beautiful moments were rare in his life; I would not be the one to rush through his final hours.

"Till death do us part…" I whispered sadly, knowing all to well the dismal reality behind the statement.

"I think we both know what won't be long now, my dear."

He was right of course, it would not be long. But I knew I had time, time to give him all that he deserved. Finally I was ready to jump off of the cliff I had feared so emphatically before. I could not swim, and now I would never have the time to learn. Still, I did not fear. Erik would never let me drown.

**A/N: Ah, how lovely. I'm sorry if it's coming off a little too mushy, maybe a little love sick. This book really opened my eyes to real love, and I felt like my fan fiction should reflect those feelings. Erik's been hard to write, I can't seem to get his character right. **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Final Chapter (depending on how long this ends up being…) Now I have nothing to occupy my time with, how depressing! It's been fun, I may not be the best author, but I really did enjoy writing this. I hope you all enjoyed, please review and tell me what you thought. Romance is certainly not a domain I would regularly delve into, but this has really been great. It took a little while to get this chapter up, but I haven't had much time to write lately. There isn't much dialogue in this chapter, I don't know, talking seems to ruin it ;) **

_**I will warn you now**_**; this chapter is certainly not for younger audiences WHATSOEVER. If you don't like slop I'm sorry! I'm in fact the number one no slop fan, but I honestly couldn't find a way around the inevitable well still trying to encompass the passion that is so obviously evident at this point in the book. I've had a rather difficult time trying to write this chapter. been warned, so proceed with caution. **

**If you do not wish to be subject to this content, please skip to the next chapter. I've split this final chapter into to parts. **

His lips were warmer than I had expected. Through the mingled tears the wonderful spark that had been so evidently present during our first kiss was still there (and certainly stronger than ever). I felt as if I had been unknowingly starved my entire life, only now finally able to gorge myself.

His arms pulled me silently closer, revelling in the final allowance of my touch. I could feel it, in every movement of his body, just to hold me was more than he had ever hoped for. How bizarre, a matter of months ago I would have been blatantly horrified of the very idea, now it seemed strangely right to be close to him.

It was an experience new to both of us, uncharted territory that we silently explored together. I, admittedly, had only ever considered being so intimate with my husband to be. Yet I pushed my thoughts of betrayal away, knowing whole heartedly that I was doing the right thing. Not just for Erik but for myself.

His mouth roamed slowly across my neck, drinking in every inch of what he had hoped to posses for so long. I had never kissed a man the way I did now. It was so passionate, almost to the point of ferocious. Our lips parted in wonderful unity, tasting each inch of the mouth I had once harboured strange fantasies of touching. Childish dreams that I had entertained hardly amounted to this reality.

A moan escaped his lips, raw and slightly wild, those long talented fingers running slowly over my side and up to tangle lovingly through my hair. Our bodies pressed together, thin scraps of material barely preventing the inevitable. I could feel exactly what I was doing to him. Corsets had never seemed such a nuisance before, only now did I realise in my haste how truly irritating the tight laced bodice could be. I drew away momentarily, sombre at having to abandon his passionate touch. That damn corset! My ridiculous fumbling fingers! I had never been naked in front of a man before, even now the thought made me blush and giggle with a childish shyness. A pool of material fell quietly down my body as I finally unlaced the last restricting ribbon. His breath seemed to quicken, his eyes closing slightly with an emotion I could hardly describe. I blushed, slightly embarrassed by his almost too powerful gaze of longing.

Slowly we learned to explore each others bodies, caressing and feeling with a powerful electric attraction. His lips grazed softly across my breast, pausing slowly concentrating on the centre of each and sending an unimaginable shiver of pure bliss down my spine. I longed for it; I needed that something that I couldn't yet identify. I could hear the soft whines of yearning escaping uncontrollably from my chest, turning into a strange guttural moan as his hands moved lower.

His shirt was gone in a matter of moments, followed shortly by his trousers. He accomplished this task with a speed and force I hadn't thought possible from this thoroughly ill man. I noticed for the first time that his chest and arms were horribley scarred, and although his physique seemed relatively distortion free, the strained body seemed to echo the horrendous experiences he had endured. I made sure to run my lips slowly over his entire torso, healing his wounds with my touch. At that moment he paused, staring me directly into my eyes. I could see the desperate question, a need so strong and fierce that he almost feared if my answer was no. It was something I had noticed about him, his unbending will to simply leave things unsaid for fear of being turned down. Silly, he hardly could doubt my answer by now.

Overcoming the final moment of indecision, at last we were one. There was pain, enough to make me cringe and whimper. Slowly the sensation changed, and as we began to move together in perfect harmony I felt nothing but complete euphoria. Mounting tension seemed to fill our movements, pushing faster and stronger towards a united goal. At last, in a single moment of complete ecstasy I had never thought possible, we were completely one.

Sheer physical exhaustion, I knew he felt it to. I couldn't help but collapse in a tired heap, never letting his arms leave my waist. Such a perfect moment I had never dreamed possible. He was my first, and inevitably my last (due to Charles's dangerous near fatal birth)

The time never seemed to matter, and although I was dimly aware of the passing hours it at no time seemed of immediate importance. As long as I was here, for however long it took, it did not matter. There was no need to talk, no need to chat with idle unimportance. We simply layed together, my frame secure and protected in his arms. I would often slip peacefully into sleep, his voice echoing with resounding splendour even through my dreams. He never closed his eyes, not for a moment, although I was sure by now of his physical exhaustion. Perhaps it was from the pain his heart so relentlessly beat upon him, or his need to savour it, that one last final bit of beauty.

I prayed silently that Raoul would wait just a bit longer to dash heroically to my "rescue". I admired his gallantry, and no doubt by now he had realised exactly where I had gone. This moment was for Erik. I would have years to spend at Raoul's side, playing the part of that so typical demure and gossiping wife. I had managed the role well for almost twenty years; reverting back to that ignorant state of mind would undoubtedly be that fate that awaited me.

Still I knew, with a certain assurance that I couldn't describe, I could never again go back to the way things were, the childish and blatantly ignorant little girl I had once been. Erik had been my angel of music, his voice and his person changing my life forever.

**A/N: short chapter! I had ultimately planned on writing it as just one large block of writing, but splitting it into two (one a tad more X rated than the other) seemed fair to those who didn't want to read such things. Man that was hard to write! It seemed so strange coming from my mind! I hope I've done a sufficient job, and I **_**know **_**it comes off a little corny. Bear with me, I'm learning too. **

**A side note, I wasn't quite sure about Christine's age, so I ventured that she was in her late teens or early twenties. If anyone knows for sure I'd be glad to know. :) I'd also like to apologize for grammatical mistakes, as well as my sometimes wonky sentence structure. I proofread these things like hell, but I'm admittedly very mechanically challenged. And apparently I can't spell characters names either; for that I will apologize profusely and stick my head in a hole in the ground. You have permission to push me off a tall building. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Wholly Cannoli who took forever to get this chapter up? Err...that would be me. Sorry, I'm really swamped right now; I don't have enough time to breath let alone write. So, this is the last chapter. It's been great to right this, sort of gives you…closure. Now I can part with "Phantom" and continue to read the mountain of Phantom books I've got left to go through. Who knows, maybe some more writing soon? **

**I hope you guys have enjoyed, please do me a favour and review. Please? Pretty please? I really love to hear your feedback, hell, if you hated it I still want to know! **

The time we covet the most seems to blur, hours we wish would stretch for days are gone in a heart beat. I had come here, completely prepared to find Erik unwell, or even fatally ill. Still, the shock of his truly imminent death still sent a shiver of uncomfortable shock through my veins. After all, he had been my angel of music, an Angel that would never leave me…

I was content, lying peacefully in that large old bed. How many days had I spent in this room? How many countless hours had I spent cowering from his touch? It seemed so distant, a hazy memory of what once was. Here and now, this was the only place I wanted to be. It had taken me months to reach that painstaking decision, and in the end I had chosen Erik. Now I would lose him again.

Yet there was no denying that those wonderfully warm arms that seemed to wrap around me with such protectiveness, were anything but alive. His face pressed softly into my hair.

"Christine…" it was impossible to deny the quiver of pain hidden in his voice. It was the first time either of us had spoken in…hours at least. I doubted he would destroy this beautiful moment for anything less than something extremely important. "I'm afraid…it won't be long now."

I grasped his hand tightly; my knuckles turning a ghostly white, "I won't leave you. You can…you will hold on longer." My voice was fierce, clouded with hurt and determination.

"You came back, that is more that I ever hoped for. You have given much more than I deserve, but I won't pretend I didn't hope you would return." A smile grazed his deformed lips; it was an act I had seen on only a few occasions.

"I don't want to be alone again…" my voice was no more than a grieving whisper. My eyes began to burn, a lump as hard as brick forming solidly in my throat.

"My dear, you know as well as I that I will never let you be alone. No doubt your fiancé is waiting anxiously right behind those doors." His eyes flashed; even on his death bed he still possessed that same infamous temper. "I promise you; never again will you be lonely. I will always be with you. Christine, I love you."

How lovely those words sounded. Never lonely…it was a dream that had never truly become reality for me. Now I had his promise, one I knew he would never break. Erik may cease to exist, leaving nothing but the disfigured shell of his life long imprisonment. A body will rot and decompose, but my angel of music will always be with me.

"I don't want you to leave…but I don't want you to hurt any more," after all, his pain was becoming more and more evident as the moments passed by. His breath was shallow, the color draining from his parchment like skin.

"My dear, the pain is nothing really. Death isn't anything I fear, I want to remember this moment, exactly as it is now…I have spent too much of my life trying to forget."

His body often shook with tremors, what else could I do but simply hold him? I would preserve this perfect night for him, push pass the pain to give him a final moment of beauty and happiness. I was completely his, if only for a few hours.

I knew almost immediately when the finale seizure of pain shook his body. Tears still fell steadily from his eyes, though from the pain or from the joy of spending those last few moments at my side, I was not sure. That final look he gave me…such sadness and euphoria, too many emotions to describe. I was sure he was suffering, peace would not be denied to him much longer.

"I love you Erik…" My wet cheek pressed warmly against the hollow of his neck, I could hardly hear his shallow breathing cease over the racking sobs issuing from my chest. He was gone. I had loved him, a strange complicated love indeed, but one greater than anything I had ever felt.

So many conflicting emotions, unbearable grief, undying love, and a strange glimmer of happiness residing purely in the knowledge that he would always be with me. Even now, he was there, as he is with me now. Love is a bond that not even death can destroy. I couldn't help but cry, even as I tried to retain some composure.

All the things I had prized, my shallow interests and fears, how trivial they all seemed now. Of course that's always be the way things play out, we don't realise how contorted our values are until something happens to put us in our place. I wasn't new to the ordeal; this would be the second time I lost someone I loved dearly. Yet the passing of my father had never succeeded in straightening my head, in fact it had accomplished quite the opposite. I had been forced to grow up, in the literal sense of the word, but I had never really become an adult. I could feed myself, make my way in the world if need be. Regardless, I didn't deny that the only thing I had ever been on the inside was a little girl, and a miserably dejected one at that.

Raoul, as Erik had predicted, was waiting tensely outside the door. The last thing I had wanted to do was leave, but Raoul needed me. I was his fiancé, and although that night's events had changed me to the core, I still cared for him. It was a love that seemed rather flighty in comparison, but I couldn't deny that those feelings were there.

He never questioned me, never showed even a glimmer of surprise or anger. I was sure he had at least glimpsed ring that adorned my wedding finger, yet he didn't speak a word. Raoul understood, probably better than I gave him credit for, the love I had felt for Erik.

Had I finally breached the gap between adult and child? I doubt if it's possible to ever do so completely, and to this day I still often find myself reverting back to an almost giddy like child ignorance. Yet I know I have been changed forever, taught to live my life with love and acceptance. You have changed my life forever Erik…. More than you will ever know.

**A/N: DONE! D: it's sad, I wish it would never end! My characterization may not be completely coherent with how you interpreted the characters, but I tried to get Christine to a point where she still obtained some of that….dare I say it, ditziness, that she originally had in Leroux's novel. Yet it seemed important that she make that drastic jump from child to adult. **

**I hope you all enjoyed. I know I had fun writing it! I'm going to apologize on final time for all the horrible mechanical errors in this story…I'm really giving it my all trying to proofread, but I admit to not being an excellent proof reader. **


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